If it Ain't Broke
by peanutbutterer
Summary: John really doesn't deserve to take the heat for this. And he isn't just saying that because he doesn't want to take the heat - not like that time with the robots, or the thing with the laser tag. John/Elizabeth


----

John really doesn't deserve to take the heat for this. And he isn't just saying that because he doesn't want to take the heat - not like that time with the robots, or the thing with the laser tag. Those had been totally his fault, even if he refused to admit it at the time. This though? This is 100% Rodney's fault.

Just because Rodney ran the plan by him first and John said, "Cool!" does not mean that he should have to take responsibility. It _was_ a cool plan, after all.

Not that he's about to tell Elizabeth that.

"And the next time you think to yourself, 'Hey, wouldn't it be great if I could turn the shower on with my brain?' remember that your brain should be used for other things." She waves a hand, "Like, for example, stopping the rest of you from following through with ridiculous ideas."

"To be fair," Rodney says, willfully ignoring John's _shut up!_ face, "the idea itself was rather ingenious."

Elizabeth makes a noise that John isn't quite able to categorize.

Rodney cowers a little. "Though, admittedly, the execution left a little to be desired."

"You made the entire city gene-activated!"

He winces. "Which is sort of what I was going for."

She takes a deep breath and tries to reign in her anger. "Fix it, Rodney. Now."

Rodney nods and scurries from the room. John does his best to follow, hoping that maybe she'll forget he's there. His escape is progressing perfectly until he crosses the threshold into the control room and Elizabeth's office plunges into darkness.

"Oh, John," she sing-songs from her chair.

He turns around and steps inside the doorway. The lights flicker back to full.

"Until this is fixed, everyone in the city without the gene is going to need an escort with the gene." Her smile is unabashedly wicked. "You're mine."

--

What feels like decades later, John decides that Elizabeth had obviously been using the term "escort" loosely. In order to escort her, he notes, she would have to actually move from her desk. He shifts a little on her couch, slightly afraid he's going to leave behind a permanent indentation in the shape of his behind.

"Elizabeth," he whines, not feeling at all remorseful for the grade-schooler lilt to his voice, "this is bo-oring." He congratulates himself on the fact that drawing out that last word adds just the tone he's going for.

She doesn't bother looking up. "It's only been two hours, John. Man up."

He scoffs. "You mean 'shut up.'"

"That too."

Okay, she may be totally justified. But still. He's _bored_. And, while under normal circumstances he wouldn't really balk at spending the better part of his day just being near Elizabeth, this couch is about as comfortable as a park bench with a slipcover. "Just because you're genetically inferior, doesn't mean you need to get feisty."

He gets the desired reaction when she pries her eyes from her laptop. "Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying, you don't have to take it out on me." He shrugs.

"Different does not equate with inferior, Colonel."

Oops. Title. That's a bad sign. But maybe at least he'll get to move off of this couch. "I'd say it does when it means you can't even open a door."

"The reason I can't open a door is because of your limited brain function."

"Rodney's limited brain function," he corrects.

Elizabeth just looks at him.

"Okay, maybe mine a little too," he admits. He sighs. Being genetically superior isn't all it's cracked up to be.

--

As they walk into the mess hall, Elizabeth is still rubbing dramatically at her elbow.

John rolls his eyes. It didn't even make a loud noise. No noise, no pain; that's his motto. Or is it no blood, no pain? Either way, she's not _really_ hurt. "It's not like I purposefully let the door slide closed on you."

"No, it was more like you slammed it closed."

"I'm just not in the habit of mentally holding doors open."

"Label me unsurprised."

"Excuse me? Is that a jab at my chivalry?"

She steps up to the food line and takes a tray but doesn't answer.

"I'll have you know I'm very chivalrous." He's practically a knight in shining armor. And there's loads of evidence. "What about that time that I shot that guy who was trying to kill you?"

She selects a potato. "I don't think that counts."

It totally counts! "It totally counts!"

She makes a noncommittal sound.

Well, fine. If chivalry isn't saving someone's life, then that's just peachy. Personally, John would gladly trade someone throwing themselves in front of a gun for throwing a jacket down in a puddle so no one's shoes get wet.

Elizabeth leads them to an empty table near the window. Before she can seat herself he sets down his tray and crosses purposefully to her side.

She raises an eyebrow.

He raises an eyebrow back and pulls out her chair. He motions for her to sit. "Madame."

Just as she begins to lower herself into the chair he shouts, "Wait!"

She freezes in place and John reaches over to snag the napkin from his tray. Shaking it out with a flourish he sweeps it over her seat, giving an extra dab to the dust at the corners.

She lets him finish before rolling her eyes. "Cute."

"Just brushing up on my knightly skills."

She doesn't look chivalrous at all when she throws a grape at him.

--

They're standing outside the southeast quadrant's restroom and at this point he's pretty much done with the waiting. He sighs. Loudly. "Elizabeth..."

"No."

He sighs again. "We've been here for almost ten minutes. No genetically enhanced female has to go right now. Just -"

"I'm not calling someone to come take me to the bathroom, John."

"Well then, you're going to have to -"

"Out of the question."

Apparently, she's cranky when she has to pee. "It's not like I'm going to look."

Now it's her turn to sigh. "Fine."

He triggers the door and the lights and she follows him inside. She slips into the furthest of the three stalls and slides the lock into place.

"Run the sink," she orders. Then she adds, "And start singing."

"Seriously?" It's not like he's tone deaf or anything, but he's certainly no Dean Martin.

"Sing, John."

This is really not what he expected he'd be doing when he got up this morning. The Pegasus Galaxy is certainly chock-full of surprises. He steps over to the sink, turns on the water and beings to sing. "Tinkle, tinkle, little star -"

Even over the sound of the water and his singing he can hear her laugh. He smiles.

He hasn't even made it through the first chorus of "Don't Go Chasing Waterfalls" when she appears beside him.

"You think you're funny, don't you?"

He's reasonably certain that there's no right way to answer that question, so instead he just grins. He triggers the water again and waits as she washes her hands.

When she's done, she awkwardly waves a hand toward the stall. "And don't' forget to… you know."

He does his best to look serious. "This is a big step, you know. I usually wait until at least the third date to flush for a girl."

"My god," she says, pressing a hand to her face to hide the blush. "Would you just do it already?"

He laughs but does as she asks. "Rodney's going to love this."

"Rodney's not going to know about this."

"It doesn't go in the report?"

She punches him in the arm.

"Right," he says, sliding the door open. "Our little secret."

--

John looks over to where Elizabeth is sitting, a stack of files beside her on the floor. He can't decide if he's offended she doesn't have the desire to watch his manly show of aggression or if he's glad she's missing how solidly Ronon is kicking his ass. He grunts and dodges a punch before straining to look at her again. "You sure you don't want a lesson, Elizabeth?"

Ronon takes advantage of John's distraction and lands a blow to the gut. John wheezes.

"If I did, I'd ask Ronon."

Damn. Maybe she is paying attention. He's reduced to playing his trump card. "If you don't want to get out of this room via gene-activated door, just keep it up."

"Like you haven't used that one already today."

John is just about to reply with something devastatingly witty when Ronon uses his foot to sweep his legs right out from under him. He lands on the mat with a loud thump that makes his teeth clatter.

Ronon looms over him. "This is good. You need practice fighting while distracted."

Elizabeth is a bit too quick on the uptake for John's liking. "Really? A mandate to annoy John? This sounds like the best job ever." Ronon gives him a hand and helps him to his feet. John would think they'd planned this if it wasn't for the fact that he's been standing right next to her all day.

Elizabeth drops the report she's been reading onto the top of the stack and folds her hands together, her expression thoughtful. "So, any exciting new love interest you'd like to tell us about?"

Heat rushes to John's cheeks. "What? I, uh," he trails off, running his fingers through his hair and shifting awkwardly.

"Alien princesses?" she continues, grin absolutely devious. "Damsels in distress?"

"What?" He stutters again. "No, no one." He's going to kill Rodney. Slowly. Painfully.

Ronon grunts.

John prickles defensively. "What are you grunting at?"

"There was that one last month. With the big hair. She tried to get you into her tent."

"Really?" Elizabeth leans forward, obviously intrigued. "I don't remember any mention of big hair on anyone's report. Did she succeed?"

"No! No, she didn't succeed! There was no succeeding!" He takes a swing at Ronon and misses completely. He ducks the counterpunch and puts both Ronon and Elizabeth on his list of people to kill.

"Teyla mentioned something about the magistrate's wife on 473," Elizabeth supplies. "She credits our trade agreement to your flirtation."

He considers pointing out that the wife was flirting with _him_ and not the other way around, but considering the crowd he decides it would be futile. He mentally adds Teyla to the list.

His trouble now is deciding who he'll kill first.

--

They stop by Rodney's lab to check in on his progress. Elizabeth gets held up by Radek but John heads straight to Rodney.

"You haven't fixed it yet?"

Rodney doesn't look up. "I'm working on it."

John gives him the obligatory, "Work faster."

"What, you don't like being Elizabeth's manpanion?"

John's mind trips over the last word. Did he just say? No, that's not right. "Man what?"

Rodney shrugs. "It's what everyone's calling you now. I think it's kind of catchy."

It is kind of catchy, but that's beside the point. "Call me that again and I will exact my revenge."

"Well that's unimpressively vague. Should I expect poison or a 'kick me' sign?"

Damn. He totally can't use the "kick me" sign idea now. "Something in between."

"Well, yes, now I'm trembling with fear."

John sighs and drops himself onto a vacant stool. "So," he says conspiratorially, leaning in a little, "are you trying to change it back to how it was, or are you trying to make it optionally gene-activated?"

Rodney is about to respond when Elizabeth arrives. "Gentlemen." She turns to Rodney. "Progress?"

"Progressing."

"Encouraging." She raises an eyebrow in a clear order to supply her with more information.

"Should be fixed by tomorrow morning. Afternoon at the latest." He frowns at his data pad. "Maybe evening."

Elizabeth rubs her temple. "You can rebuild a jumper's central computer in ten minutes but it takes you almost two days to make the city exactly how it was before you broke it?"

"I was plummeting through space when I did that. The threat of death is always pretty good incentive."

She folds her arms across her chest. "Consider yourself threatened."

John's pretty sure he's not the only person in the room who shivers.

Rodney gulps. "Morning. Definitely morning."

--

John is perched on the edge of Elizabeth's bathtub while she brushes her teeth. She's in a t-shirt and little cotton shorts and, damn, he had no idea her legs were so long. Like, _really_ long.

He drags his eyes upward when he realizes she's trying to talk to him.

"Hmm?" he asks.

She mumbles something around her toothbrush.

"What?"

She points to the faucet.

"Oh, sorry." He pushes off the tub and joins her at the counter to trigger the water.

She leans over the sink to rinse and John gets a nice view of the back of her neck. He's never seen her in a ponytail before. It's ridiculously sexy.

She stands back up and drops her toothbrush onto the counter. "Thanks."

He nods.

"Really, John. Thank you for following me around today. I know this whole thing wasn't entirely your fault, and I'm sorry you had to waste a day because of it."

Somehow, he's not sorry at all. Luckily, his mental filter is at least partially functioning, so instead he says, "It wasn't a waste."

She looks dubious. "I'm sure you had better things to do than babysit."

He shrugs. "You're not so bad to spend time with. I wouldn't have had such a good time if I had been assigned to Dr. Ambrose." The man never stops talking. An over-caffeinated Rodney on a bad day has got nothing on Ambrose. Plus, there's a very noticeable body odor problem.

Elizabeth laughs. "That's probably true." She sobers a little. "Poor Cadman."

"Poor Cadman, indeed," John agrees.

"Anyway," Elizabeth says, stepping into her bedroom. "You can go now. I'll get someone else to help me out tomorrow if Rodney hasn't fixed this by then. You've done your duty."

She's standing there looking at him and he knows he should go. He should walk out the door and go to his room and take a very cold shower. He knows this, and yet -

"You don't need light for anything else?"

She glances briefly at her desk. "I do have some reports I should take a look at. But really John, I'm not going to make you sit here any longer."

He's already heading toward her bookshelf. "I don't mind. I finished _War and Peace_ last month, so I've been looking to start something new anyway." He scans a few titles and settles on _The Odyssey_.

"John, really, you don't -"

"I don't mind, Elizabeth." In fact, he's looking forward to it.

--

She's sitting on her bed, files strewn across the blanket and a look of concentration on her face.

John is in the chair beside her, book in hand and doing his best to pretend he's reading. He's been on the same page for the last twenty minutes but he doesn't think she's noticed.

He rarely gets to see her like this. She'll slip sometimes, let her mask fall and let him see the real Elizabeth - not the diplomat or the leader, but the person. He's always enjoyed those moments, felt privileged that he was the one to experience them. He likes this side of her. It's softer.

She looks up from her file. "How's the story?"

He clears his throat and drops the book onto his lap. "It's a great adventure. Classic. Gripping, really."

She looks like she's trying not to laugh. "Yeah?"

"Yup."

"What page?"

"Five."

She tosses her report onto the bed. "I guess Odysseus doesn't lead as exciting of an expedition as I do."

John grins. "Not nearly. Although, I am relieved we haven't had a run-in with the God of the Sea yet. Especially considering the home court advantage he'd have on us."

She raises an eyebrow. "Those were a comprehensive five pages."

"One of them was the dust jacket," he says with a shrug.

She laughs. "Well Odysseus didn't have to fight the Wraith."

"Or the Replicators."

"True, but he didn't get to live in Atlantis either."

"No, he didn't." And he didn't get to know Elizabeth. John thinks that's the greater loss. He's not quite ready to say that out loud though. "Even if the entire city isn't gene-activated, it's still pretty amazing."

"Yeah," Elizabeth smiles, "but it would be kind of cool if I could turn my shower on with my mind."

--

The next morning, John finds himself wandering down the hall toward Elizabeth's room. He's already eaten, gone jogging, showered, and it just so happens that he's got an hour to kill before their meeting. Totally accidental that he woke up at five. Really.

He lingers outside her door. He's just being considerate, he tells himself. Just dropping by to make sure she has light to see her way to the shower. If she happens to need him to run the shower for her, well, then, he'd be okay with that too.

Resolved, he knocks. At her muffled, "Come in!" he triggers the sensor and the door slides open.

Elizabeth is standing in her room, already dressed and brushing her hair. The lights are on full power. He smothers a frown.

"John," she says with a smile. "Hey."

He clears his throat. "Morning." He steps a little further inside and makes a vague gesture toward the light sensor. "I was just checking to make sure you could get around okay."

"It seems I can be just as threatening as plummeting through space. I don't know whether to be proud or worried."

"Probably a little of both."

"Yeah, probably."

"Anyway," he says, "it looks like you've got things under control. I guess I'll see you at the meeting?"

She nods. "I'll see you there."

He starts to leave but stops before he gets to the door. "I, uh -" He turns around. "I have a few duty rosters I've been meaning to go through."

"A few? I think the last time you actually filled out paperwork was ..." she trails off. "Have you ever filled out paperwork?"

"Yeah, well, okay, so I have a lot of duty rosters to go through. But I was thinking that the couch in your office is actually pretty comfortable. Plus, just in case Rodney botched the job, I'd, you know, be available." He's pretty sure that sounded even lamer out loud than it did in his head, but before he can shrivel up and die, Elizabeth gives him a smile.

"Mi sofa es su sofa."

He makes a face. "I think you should stick to your other four languages."

She sticks her tongue out at him.

"Breakfast?" he asks.

"Don't you usually eat before you run?"

Caught. He shrugs. "The scones were really good. I'm thinking of having another."

She grabs a stack of files from her desk and crosses the room. "Are you going to dust off my chair?"

"Only if you agree that every time I do that's one less bullet I have to jump in front of for you. " He follows her to the door. "I mean, seriously. Would you rather have dirty pants or a kidney with a hole in it?"

Elizabeth laughs. "You're right, John. I'd rather just have you the way you are." She triggers the door. "Here, let me open this for you."

"Such a gentleman."

"I learn from the best."

She slips through the door but John hesitates. "You're not going to try to slam it on my elbow, are you?"

"No. But I do plan on singing while you pee."

He grins and falls into step beside her. "That is totally acceptable."


End file.
